What We Knew As Children
by anyadoll
Summary: It's that time of year again, when his past comes back to haunt him. But Kurt's not the only one being haunted by the ghosts from his past. Jane may finally be one step closer to finding out who she is, and what her connection to Kurt really means..


**A/N:** So this has bounced around in my head for a couple months, but I never knew how to put it to words. I doubt I'm the only one with this theory, and since I'm in the "Jane-is-so-not-Taylor" camp, I wanted to create a solution that spoke to that idea. Can be considered a companion piece to Quatervois. It has no clear resolution, and is certainly fluffier than intended, but I don't want to speculate too much even though this is pre-canon to the show's future storyline. Hopefully this reads well.

 **What We Knew As Children**

XOX

" _Important encounters are planned by the souls long before the bodies see each other."_

 _-Paulo Coelho_

XOX

At the ripe age of five, Kurt Weller knew Taylor Shaw was special.

She was an energetic, carefree child that didn't take no for an answer. If he told her she couldn't ride bikes with the boys, she'd promptly strap her purple helmet on and vigorously pedal after them, keeping up with him no matter how tired she became. If he climbed up three branches on the tree in their yard, she'd climb up four. He even threatened to eat a worm to try and deter her constant shadowing, but she simply picked one up off the ground and dangled it above her mouth, as he did.

Oh, the grief he suffered at the hands of his friends for letting the little girl next-door tagalong. "Go home, play with Sarah," he'd plead, flushing profusely as the other boys teased him about his _girlfriend._

"But I wanna play with _you,_ Sarah won't play cops and robbers with me! _Pretty pleaseee_ , Kurt?"

In the end, he always caved, only adding fuel to the fire as his friends hooted and howled and sped away on their bikes, mocking him for _playing with a baby_. Taylor would promptly cry at being called such a blasphemous word, and he'd be left to clean up the mess he'd made—usually buying her a popsicle when the ice cream truck came around. By the time they'd returned home, all was forgiven.

She trusted him implicitly.

Perhaps that's why it hurt so much, why he blamed himself for losing her.

It wasn't until long after she was gone that he realized she'd spent their short time together determined to prove her worth.

Looking back, he'd do anything to tell her she had nothing to prove to him.

XOX

The day always seemed to come with a vengeance.

Every year, like clockwork.

A steady, solemn reminder to never take that which he loved for granted.

He'd packed his bag the night before, the X's marked on the calendar leading up to the date. Sarah had been silent all morning, keeping her distance and avoiding his gaze as she quietly shuffled Sawyer off to school. If the boy ever noticed the silence that befell his mother and uncle on this day, he never spoke of it.

He submitted his request to Mayfair, and she allowed it, as she always did. The same grim smile that graced her face reflected on his. It was a mutual understanding, a quiet agreement.

This was his pattern, and no one questioned it. The one exception to his ritual was last year, when Jane's appearance in Times Square had taken priority.

He organized the paperwork needed for their ongoing cases, left Reade in charge, accepted Patterson's hug, and vowed to take Zapata up on her offer for drinks when he returned. There was only one person left to say goodbye to.

Some part of him wondered if they thought he'd forego his yearly ritual since Jane had come into his life. But no one dared comment, giving him a wide berth to handle his grief in his own way.

Kurt scanned the room, searching for the woman in question. "She got in late, she's in the locker room," Zapata informed him. Kurt gave her a half smile, thanking her as he made his way there.

Jane slipped her light jacket off, hanging it inside her locker. She went about attaching her holster to her hip when she heard the door close behind her.

Startled, she turned to find Kurt watching her. "Hey," she said, a small smile beginning to spread across her lips. It faltered at the guilt that swam in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing's wrong, Jane. I just needed to talk to you," he began, gesturing to the bench that ran the length of the lockers.

She closed her locker and hesitantly took a seat, her eyes following his every movement. "You're freaking me out," Jane said, chewing her thumbnail nervously.

He sat next to her, elbows propped on his knees. "I'm gonna be out of town this week, I just wanted to give you a heads up. I'll be back Saturday. You can stay at my place if you want," he informed her carefully, afraid that if he lingered too long here with her, he'd lose the nerve to leave. "Reade will be in charge, and you can call me if you need anything."

Jane knit her forehead, confusion flooding her face. "I don't understand. Where are you going— _why_ are you going? Did I…did I do something?"

"No, you didn't do anything, Jane. We're fine. I just…do this every year."

She shrugged helplessly. "Do what, Kurt? Tell me," she pleaded gently, grasping his hand.

Kurt sighed, squeezing her hand. "I go home, to Pennsylvania. Well, not _home_ , but close to it. It's just…what I do this time of year."

Realization dawned on Jane, the picture of _that_ little girl and the headline and the date flashing in her mind. _Today's date._

"For Taylor?" she whispered quietly. More memories had come to her over the course of the year, but none of her childhood. They were as elusive as the mission she'd set them all on.

He nodded. "Yeah, for Taylor. For me. I would have told you sooner, and I didn't mean to spring it on you, but we've been busy these last couple weeks. There never seemed to be a good time to bring it up."

She gave him a tight smile, nudging his shoulder with hers. "It's okay, Kurt. I understand. And I'll be okay, you know. It'll give me a break from your snoring," she laughed, and he couldn't help joining in her mirth.

"You're no better, like a freight train," he smirked.

"I do not snore!" Jane exclaimed.

Kurt dodged the half-hearted jab she threw to his side, instead grabbing her arm and using it to pull her closer. He rested his forehead against hers, breathing her in for a moment. They hadn't spent more than a couple days apart since she'd emerged from the bag in Times Square. Even when they'd fought, when her mission, the video, and the truth behind her abduction came to light. That was the last time they'd spent any kind of significant time apart.

She looked up at him through dark lashes. "You can call me if you need me too, you know."

"I always need you, Jane," he whispered, trailing his thumb over her cheekbone before lowering his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. The reflex and desire to push it further lingered, but he knew better. They were at work, after all. And even though the team knew about their relationship, they'd kept a low profile. If Mayfair knew—and she probably did—she never commented on it.

He broke away, much to Jane's chagrin. She gave him a breathy laugh. "If I'd known you were leaving, I would have stayed over last night instead of hanging out with the girls. This is going to be harder than I thought."

"Tell me about it." Kurt chuckled, glancing at his watch and running a hand through his hair. "I've got to head out. Sure you're okay with this?"

Jane nodded. "I'm okay. Just…call me, when you get there?"

Kurt stood, bringing her up with him. "I promise, I will."

She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in for one last parting kiss, this one far more heated. She kept it brief though, straightening the collar of his shirt when she pulled away.

"I love you, you know," she said quietly, releasing her hold on him.

Kurt smiled, the familiar, sharp thrill zagging down his spine every time she said it. It still seemed so new to him. Almost foreign in his ears. He'd never said those words to any other woman, nor had they been spoken to him.

He kissed her forehead, squeezed her hand. "I love you, too, Jane."

XOX

As soon as he hit the road, the empty feeling that always consumed him on this day set in.

He berated himself, knowing he should have asked Jane to come with him. He'd had plenty of opportunities to tell her his plans. Being too busy—that had been a lie. She had just as much right to be with him on this sordid trip, but as with all things, his desire to shoulder the burden by himself won out.

Worse that she knew it.

She fought him tooth and nail when it came to being included, but had let him go on this trip alone, without so much as blinking.

He didn't deserve her.

Kurt sighed, turning onto the expressway. They had every reason to believe she was Taylor—and every reason not too. The ominous video had tempered his obsession that she was the missing girl. His feelings for her had too, if he was being honest. He was okay with Jane just being…Jane.

He was in love with the woman, but indebted to the girl.

What he needed was closure.

And he feared that most of all.

XOX

It started as a dream.

A dark room with tiny beds in jagged rows. Two little girls slept, facing each other as shadows danced on the walls.

It jolted her out of a dead sleep, chilling her to the bone. _It's just a dream,_ she told herself.

She thought nothing of it at first.

"It's good that you're dreaming more."

That's what Dr. Borden said in her session the following morning as she chewed her bottom lip raw.

"It seems like you're projecting. Agent Weller is gone for the week, to deal with his pastin his own way. And since his trip concerns Taylor Shaw, and your potential shared childhoods, it's logical that you would create this image in your mind. The two girls, for example, could represent you, as Jane Doe, and you as Taylor—the identity is split. You're trying to reconcile who you are," he surmised. And though she understood on a base level what he was implying, she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at his shrink speak.

Jane shrugged it off, going about her work with the rest of the team. Since her memories were usually exceptionally vague, she didn't read much into the dream.

Until it happened again, two days later. That's when she realized her dream wasn't a dream after all.

This time, she was very much awake.

Patterson took her grocery shopping—instructed by Kurt because, as he explained, if left to her own devices, Jane would purchase toothpaste, a head of lettuce, and a tub of strawberry ice cream—to which Jane stomped her foot and irately exclaimed, " _That only happened one time_!"

They were waiting at the checkout when she felt someone bump into her.

Jane looked down at the little girl, no more than six, with dark hair and pale hazel eyes, tugging her nearly identical tearful sister along with her.

"Sorry, excuse me," the girl mumbled, holding tight to her squirming sister's hand.

And suddenly, Jane was back in that dark room, gripping a little girl's hand while she cried.

" _Shh, don't cry. They get mad when you cry. Think about something happy,"_ she whispered to the inconsolable child.

Jane was only broken from the spell of the memory— _not a dream_ —by Patterson's gentle nudge to move forward in line.

Kurt didn't call that night, and as much as she missed him already, she was grateful.

Her memories had never been so vivid, she noted, as she lay curled up in his bed. She tried to fight sleep off as long as she could, but with his comforting scent surrounding her, she was out in moments.

 _The new girl cried too much_.

She huffed, sliding off the narrow cot and weaving her way through the others as the cold seeped into her bare feet. When she found her, she shook her shoulder, trying to convey her displeasure.

It did nothing to quell her sobs.

" _I want my mommy,"_ the child wailed, reaching out for her. She sighed, moving to lie down next to the girl.

" _Shh, don't cry. They get mad when you cry. Think about something happy. What makes you happy?"_ she whispered, afraid they would come and separate them, or worse, if this girl continued to sniffle and sob as she did. She placed her arms around her, hugging her close on the tiny cot.

The girl wiped away a few of her tears with her fist; green eyes meeting equally green eyes. _"You're nice, you remind me of my friend. His name is Kurt. He makes me happy,"_ the little girl breathed, quieting slightly.

" _What's he like?"_

" _He gets me popsicles, and we climb trees, and he always let's me pick out a movie to watch when I go to his house. He lives next-door,"_ the girl prattled on, calming as she spoke of her friend. _"One time, I fell out of the tree and got this,"_ the girl turned, pulling back her hair and indicating the scar on her neck.

It was rare, to steal a bit of comfort in the madness that surrounded them. The other children were too broken. But not her. She wouldn't let them break her. She wouldn't let them break this girl either.

" _What's your name?"_ she felt herself ask.

" _Taylor Shaw. What's your name?"_

" _I'm—"_

The bedside alarm blared.

Jane huffed in irritation, aggressively slapping the button. She blinked, running the dream over in her mind.

No. _The memory._

She swallowed hard, all of the consequences of the memory flooding her. A chill ran down her spine, and she gasped, sucker-punched by the realization.

"I'm not Taylor Shaw."

XOX

Jane went through the day in a distracted fog. Nothing important was happening, no breakthroughs, no hits in Patterson's tattoo database, so she politely asked Mayfair if she could head home early.

With permission granted, she had her detail take her to her safe house. She could barely remember what the inside of it looked like anymore. At this point, she was spending a few scattered days here a month ever since she and Kurt decided to pursue their relationship.

She wasn't sure what her detail thought of her consistent requests to be taken to Kurt's place, but she never asked, and they never told.

As soon as she nodded to her detail and locked the door behind her, she was gone.

Old habits die hard, and all of that.

She slipped out quickly, jogging towards the park.

Jane had long since learned how to make herself invisible. It wasn't hard in a city this size, but her tattoos made blending in difficult. The leers and catcalls she received from strange men didn't help matters either.

The weather was turning cool—the optimal time for her to be able to blend seamlessly. A thin jacket, a pair of fingerless gloves, and a hat were enough to make her an innocuous face in the crowd.

She scanned the park for anything out of place in the low evening sun, making her way towards a bench tucked away.

"Thank you, for meeting me," Jane said carefully as she felt him sit down next to her.

"Didn't give me much choice," Oscar answered gruffly. He wasn't happy about this. "We had a deal—I contact you, remember?"

Jane raised an eyebrow at him. "No. I don't," she responded dryly. He shook his head, a smirk making its way across his face. "Besides, I thought you worked for me."

"Touché. So, what is it that's got you all twisted," he continued without preamble. The few meetings they'd had were always straight to the point, leaving no room for small talk.

"I'm not Taylor Shaw. I remember, now."

Oscar turned to face her, surprise lighting his eyes. "What…how?"

Jane shrugged. "It's the anniversary of her disappearance. Kurt went out of town to…well, I don't know what, exactly. But since then, it's just…hit me."

"So your _boyfriend_ goes out of town and leaves you behind—and _that_ triggers a flashback?" he observed, his tone sour.

"I don't know. I don't know what caused it. I thought it was a dream at first. Two little girls, lying on a cot in a dark room, with dozens of other kids. I've had the memories of the other kids before, scarred and…" she trailed off, feeling queasy at the image of the damaged children.

"The girl…she's crying, and I tell her to talk to me, tell me what makes her happy, so that she'll calm down. She talks about her neighbor, her _best friend_ , Kurt Weller. She tells me about the scar, tells me her name is Taylor Shaw," Jane explained, gaze distant. "It always ends, right before I say my name."

She paused, letting him digest her words.

"What happened to me? If I'm not her, then why take on her identity, why choose to become _this girl_?" Jane pleaded.

Oscar shook his head. "I can't tell you that."

"Please?" she begged, reaching out to grip his forearm.

"You don't understand—I can't tell you because _I_ _don't know._ "

"What? How do you not know?" Jane demanded, pulling her hand away.

Oscar sighed.

"You never told me _why_ you needed to be this little girl for your Agent boyfriend so badly. We knew enough about him to know he was there the night she disappeared, and that making you into her—even a representation of her—would be the easiest way to get to him. It would play on his guilt, and it would make him protective," he explained. "I assumed that you'd selected him based on something of significance, but I didn't know it had to do with _your_ childhood as well. This is…you never told me about it."

"We were engaged and you didn't know anything about my childhood?" Jane asked warily.

"It's not like either of us is big on sharing, and it's not like I didn't try to talk to you about it. The one time I asked you about your childhood, you walked out of our apartment and didn't come back for three days. You _really_ didn't want to discuss it."

Jane picked at her fingernails, perplexed.

"Whatever my reason, I think becoming Taylor was about more than just an avenue to get to Kurt, and exploiting what she meant to him," Jane said slowly, still forming the thought. "I think it has to do with what she meant to me, too. That's why I chose him."

"So…what are you going to do about it?"

Jane shrugged, worrying her lip.

"I don't know."

XOX

She knelt on the icy ground, braiding the little girl's long, dark hair.

" _Sarah used to braid my hair,"_ Taylor announced, drawing pictures in the dust that covered the floor with her fingertip. _"Kurt wasn't very good at it, but you are."_

Taylor paused, leaning back to study the stick people she'd created. A happy little family, drawn out in the dust and the dirt; a boy meant to be Kurt, two girls—Taylor and Sarah, and a woman she assumed was her mother, as she was taller than the other three. Taylor smiled then, adding another character opposite Kurt.

" _Look, it's you,"_ the girl beamed proudly.

" _Taylor, hold still, I'm trying to finish this,"_ She admonished, tying the braid off with a strip of blue fabric before studying the crude drawings. _"Why did you draw me?"_

Taylor shrugged. _"Because you're my friend. And Kurt's my friend. And I think you'd like my family."_

Despite making Taylor tell her all there was to know about the boy and the girl that lived next-door, she grew more despondent by the day. The girl's hope was wearing thin, that her best friend would magically come save her.

Taylor still cried at night, and though she did her best to keep her close and muffle those cries, she knew it was only a matter of time until they took Taylor away. The ones that cried as she did were always taken. The ones that couldn't let go.

It came to a head three days later, her uncontrollable sobs forcing one of the men to barge into the room, making a beeline straight for Taylor. She threw herself in front of her, screaming and throwing punches with her tiny fists in retaliation. She received a mind-bending backhand for her troubles, watching helplessly as he carried Taylor away, as if in sick slow motion, the girl mouthing her name, crying out for help.

The man vanished behind the door with Taylor, and she never returned.

The man in…

 _Uniform._

 _The man wore a uniform._

Jane jerked up, wincing at the instant pinch in her neck.

"Jane? You okay? You look terrible," Patterson stated as she bustled around the lab.

Jane lifted her head off the table where she'd been resting, the brightness of the space blinding her. "Yeah, fine. I just haven't been sleeping well."

"Right, Weller's out of town."

"This doesn't have to do with him being gone," Jane quickly corrected. It didn't, to an extent.

"Sure, Jane, whatever you say," Patterson smiled knowingly. "It's perfectly acceptable that you miss him. He's your…Kurt."

Jane made a face. "You can say boyfriend; it's not some big secret," she laughed, feeling a bit better. "Can I…um…ask you something?"

"Sure," Patterson said, grabbing an orange from her lunchbox. She set it in front of Jane. "But only if you eat this."

Jane scrunched her nose in distaste. She wasn't particularly fond of citrus.

"You're pale as a ghost and I'm pretty sure your sugar is dangerously low. Kurt left me in charge of your physical health, and I don't want to hear about it if you collapse mid-fist-fight. Eat, and we'll talk."

Jane relented, digging her thumbs into the smooth flesh. "How long has Kurt been going on this…trip?"

The blonde shrugged. "As long as I've known him. He takes the same week of vacation every year, without fail. Except for last year—that's when you showed up," she said, hesitating for a second. "I thought it would be different now. You know, since you guys are together. I was surprised he went. Especially without you."

Jane glanced up at her, a pained expression crossing her face. She appreciated Patterson's candor, even if it was accidental. Normally that was Zapata's wheelhouse, but she'd spent all morning pestering the brunette, receiving nothing but excuses from her.

"I said that wrong, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. It's just…you guys are kinda like a package deal and I thought maybe, for the first time, he'd share that piece of his life with someone…with you."

"Yeah, me too," Jane mumbled. "It's not like I can blame him for not opening up though. I kinda have the market cornered for that."

Patterson sighed, an anxious look on her face as she took a seat across from Jane.

"What's with that look?" Jane asked cautiously.

"This time of year is always hard on him. But I think it's harder now. He had hope that you were Taylor, and I think I ruined that." She averted her eyes, opting to stare at her hands. "There was a test. I did it without anyone's knowledge. I mean, you know me, I'm…curious. The tooth you lost in the altercation with the Bearded Man a year ago, I did a test on it shortly after. I…did what's called an isotope test."

Jane nodded, but there was no curious inflection in her voice when she spoke. "And what were the results."

Patterson raised her eyebrow at Jane's indifference. "You couldn't be Taylor Shaw. The tooth places your birth and early childhood in Sub-Saharan Africa. Kurt refused to acknowledge it as fact. DNA said you were Taylor, and that's what he stuck too. But he started having doubts after that, I think. At least, from what I could tell. It seemed like he stopped thinking of you like you were her. Stopped…pretending."

Jane pursed her lips, smiling internally. "So he knows."

She couldn't be mad. And in reality, she wasn't. She'd hidden enough from him. It was more important to her, knowing that he still chose her, loved her, regardless of the fact she wasn't his childhood friend.

"Knows what?" Patterson asked, taking the mutilated orange from Jane's numb fingers.

"I'm not her, Patterson."

Patterson tilted her head, a sympathetic expression on her face. "No, we don't know that. The results contradict each other, and neither test is perfect."

"No…I _know_ I'm not Taylor."

"What? How, Jane? That's…huge."

Jane stood, pushing her chair back, a proposition building on her lips. "I'll eat the orange, and I'll tell you everything, but you have to take me to Pennsylvania…now."

XOX

Patterson couldn't resist a good mystery.

It'd been easy to get her to go along on this last minute road trip. Mayfair had looked at them like they were half crazy, but Patterson had a wealth of vacation days saved up and Jane…well, Jane promised Mayfair she'd fill her in when they returned.

Patterson pulled up to the modest cabin, facing Jane.

"He'll understand, you know. You had—have—good intentions. Anyone can see that," Patterson reassured her, biting her lip. "These uniformed men that took you…you don't know why?"

Jane shook her head.

"No. I have to wonder, though…I was a Navy Seal, right? Or at least we think I might have been. I remembered over-hearing Carter and I was in uniform at the time, it's easy to draw certain conclusions. But all these things I can do—the number of languages I can speak, the fighting techniques, the helicopter flying and other skills—what if I was trained for _something._ If I were taken as a child I wouldn't have anything to be attached too; no parents, no siblings, and they would have given up looking for me eventually. Maybe this mission I'm on is in spite of my…upbringing. What if I discovered something I wasn't supposed to when I was younger?" she paused. "What if I'm doing this for Taylor?"

Patterson gave her a half smile. "Yesterday I would have said you sounded like a nutty conspiracy theorist, but given all we've been through…anything seems possible."

"I'm counting on that," Jane said to herself.

XOX

She found him near the creek, just beyond the cabin.

Kurt whipped around when he heard the branches snapping under her feet.

"Jane, what are you doing here?" he asked, surprise evident in his voice.

"I needed to talk to you," she replied quietly.

He laughed, trudging up the small embankment. "You could have called me, you know. Not that I'm not happy you're here."

Jane cleared her throat. "I couldn't call you, not for this. This…needed to be face to face. And it couldn't wait."

Concern filled his blue eyes, roving over her body, looking for any visible injuries. She shook her head, placing a calming hand on his chest.

"I'm fine. It's…it's about Taylor," she whispered, listening to his sharp intake of breath. "About something I've remembered."

Jane reached out, clasping his hand in hers.

"C'mon, we should go inside."

XOX

Silence filled every corner of the cabin, wedging itself under the haphazardly skewed rugs, into the cushions of the well-worn sofa, between the pages in the stacks of books leaning precariously by the bedroom door.

She held her breath, waiting for a reaction. He'd been eerily quiet as she told him everything she could remember, every detail, down to the color of the fabric she'd used to tie Taylor's braid.

They sat for what felt like hours after she finished, two broken people reveling in the darkness they'd each sought to uncover.

Jane jumped when he stood, startled by the abrupt movement.

Kurt made his way to the front door, stepping outside without a word. The screen door shook as it snapped back into place, shattering the calm that had befallen them.

For a moment, Jane hesitated. Was she supposed to leave him to his grief, or follow after him? This was as much about her as it was him. They'd both failed that little girl.

Jane took a deep breath, going after him.

He sat on the porch swing, arms crossed and face pensive.

"Can I join you?" she asked tentatively.

"Yeah, Jane, you can."

They sat in silence for a little while longer, swinging gently and staring up at the sheer amount of stars that cluttered the dark expanse of sky above them.

"I've never seen so many stars," Jane breathed in awe, leaning into Kurt.

He eased his left arm around her shoulders. "Beautiful, isn't it? You don't get a view like this in the city."

She made a small sound of agreement in the back of her throat.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," she whispered, letting her head drop to his chest.

"For what?"

"I don't know. Ruining your memory of Taylor. Trying to become her—thinking I was her. For using her as a way to get to you," Jane rattled off, feeling worse by the second.

"Hey, look at me," he began, tipping her chin back. "You didn't ruin anything, Jane. If you won't let me blame myself for her disappearance, then I won't let you blame yourself for your inability to stop them. You were five-years old, Jane. There's nothing you could have done."

"Maybe that's why I sent myself to you," Jane surmised, smiling lightly. "Taylor told me everything there was to know about you, your time together, the life you had. I think part of me was clinging to the idea of a family, and she accepted me into hers. And then they took her away, too. And all I had left were the stories she told me…about you.

"Maybe I knew that I'd remember my time with her eventually, and we'd be able to share that loss. I sent myself to you, Kurt, so we could do something about it _now._ We're not those helpless children anymore."

"No, we're two people that share in the loss of a friend that changed our lives. I think…we were always going to find each other, Jane. Taylor…she made sure of that."

Jane smiled wide, leaning up to capture his lips.

"Seems a little optimistic for you," she smirked when she pulled back.

Kurt's eyes held hers before moving back to the sky.

"I am, Jane. Because now…now I know there's a chance she's alive, somewhere, out there."

Jane let her head fall back to his shoulder.

"I suppose you're right…I survived, after all."

Kurt squeezed her shoulder, whispering softly, "For what it's worth, Jane. I'm glad you found your way to me. I'm glad you chose me."

She closed her eyes, breathing him in and committing this moment to memory. The words tumbled from her lips, light and happy, and finally _free_.

"You never had to believe me, Kurt. I gave you no reason to trust me. And _you_ still chose _me_. You'll never know what that means to me."

He laughed, feeling as if he'd found some modicum of closure because of her. For both of them to have known the same little girl as children, and to be thrown together now because of her, there could be no coincidence in that. He hadn't been this content in a very long time.

"I love you, Jane. Never forget that."

His eyes held a mischievous sparkle, and so did hers as she replied, "I don't think I could if I tried."

"Looks like we don't have a choice. I guess we really are in this together," Kurt smiled, kissing her forehead gently.

"I guess so."

XOX

"He loved her, of course, but better than that, he chose her, day after day.

Choice: that was the thing."

-Sherman Alexie


End file.
